


Moonlight Sonata

by Aria_Valanch



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Other, War of the Thorns | Burning of Teldrassil, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Valanch/pseuds/Aria_Valanch
Summary: The story takes place during the War of Thorns after Teldrassil falls.





	Moonlight Sonata

**Author's Note:**

> After reading Elegy, a short story written by Christie Golden, I was inspired to write this. I've always loved Tyrande Whisperwind as a character, and I was a bit disappointed when they did not include in-game all what truly happened in the official story of the War of Thorns.
> 
> Anyway, remember that this is just an unofficial story, everything that happens in it is what I think that COULD have happened.
> 
> I apologize beforehand for my english, I'm not native and the text may not be perfect as I wanted. Still, I hope you can enjoy the story!

_I hear music in the air tonight, one familiar fading tune. I couldn't save them from the monsters and now they’re ghosts under the moonlight._  
  
_Forgive me..._

[···]

Taking decisions was one of the most difficult tasks of a leader, and the decision she had made weighed heavily on her heart. Retreating on time was not a weakness but a strategy, and that is what allowed her to save her husband from the clutches of death.  
Nonetheless, the events that took place on the Mage Quarters while the Archdruid was resting made her doubt herself as a leader.

Days ago, after arriving to Stormwind's Keep the High King accommodated them in one of the guest rooms in the upper levels of the castle, where the High Priestess could tend to the Archdruid without being disturbed. It was there where she was headed, concealed in shadows to arrive as soon as possible to her husband’s side.

The night had arrived to the capital city of the Alliance, the two Moons soon appeared in the clear sky but the light of the White Lady wasn’t radiant as ever, it was dim and almost imperceptible.  
As she walked through the streets, she heard a group of people referring to that as a sudden eclipse, but the truth that escaped them was only known for the Kaldorei.

The Goddess was weeping for her innocent children, for all the elves who perished in the war, for their allies, for the ancients and animals alike.

[···]

Malfurion Stormrage was lying on the bed guarded by Ash’alah, her wife’s faithful tigress; the wound caused by the sharp edge of Saurfang’s axe was deep and managed to rend the skin and flesh, leaving the druid in a weakened state even after being healed by the Light of Elune.  
When Tyrande entered the room the shadows concealing her vanished and her body was revealed. The frostsaber, curious about what was inside the wicker basket that the priestess held in her arms, walked towards her and sniffed the air.

“This is Finel, she will be staying with us tonight.” She whispered, kneeling beside her tigress. Ash’alah frowned as she glared at the sleeping infant, it was rare to see a night elf baby and she had only met adults in her long life, but she was also a mother and understood perfectly that the baby had to be protected like one of her own cubs. With extreme care, the saber cat grabbed the handle of the basket with her sharp teeth and took away the little one, only to leave her in the comfy carpet near the unlit fireplace and cuddle beside her.

When she made sure that her companion was guarding the child, she sat on the edge of the bed. The aroma of fresh flowers, grass and old bark always accompanied him wherever he went, the smell of the forest itself, for he was the embodiment of nature. His scent always calmed her temper, and that is what she needed the most in that moment.

The priestess stroked gently the druid’s green hair and then caressed his face, even after all these millennia he was still handsome like the first time they met. It was his calm and gentle behavior what made her choose him instead of his brother. Still, over the centuries the same impatience that tainted Illidan was starting to show up in Malfurion as well, a flaw that had made him venture into the lion’s den too often lately.

“My love…” He said with a weak voice. “You’ve returned.” Malfurion cleared his throat and drank the refreshing mint tea with honey that her wife was offering him.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone again.” She hugged him, resting in his strong muscular arms, his warm body felt comforting as ever. “You always get into trouble when I’m not around.”

The druid spent days resting, recovering his strength while his beloved wife managed the situation, words about the battle that took place between him and the Warchief had not been spoken until now. “I know… but this time I had a good reason.” He gently kissed her delicate hand.

Tyrande stared at his radiant eyes, looking at him with disapproval. “Instead of sending a message of farewell, you should have waited for me to help you fight her. Our strength resides in fighting together.”

He knew she was right, as always. “I would have defeated her if it…”

“If nothing, Mal, it was reckless!” The peaceful embrace didn’t last for long, the upset priestess prey of the angst she was feeling stood up and gave the back to her husband. “You may be way more powerful than her, but raw power is useless against a good strategy. You should have expected her to play dirty, her lackeys are never far from her.”

“Even with her lackeys around and being outnumbered we resisted fiercely. It is a matter of time that we take Teldrassil back.” After noticing the sobbing of her wife, the weakened Archdruid sat on the edge of the bed. “My love?” He asked with concern.

“…The tree is gone.” She embraced herself as the tears blurred her vision.

He stood up and rested his hands over her shoulders. “No matter how much they desecrate it, we will heal our home, Nature is on our side.”

“We failed, Mal…” She buried her face in his soft and long beard. “They have burned it…” Her voice finally broke, the pain overwhelmed her making the tears fall like if they were rivers of sadness. “E-Everyone… died, they did not spare any innocent soul…”

Malfurion clenched his jaw and gave his wife a reassuring hug. The storm was raging in his heart as never before, the urge of revenge crawled from within his soul, the fierce beast inside him wanted to rip apart the cold body of the Banshee Queen.  
Thoughts that soon vanished from his troubled mind, he did not want to end up like his brother, although deep inside he knew that Illidan would have won that cruel war in the blink of an eye if he had stayed.  
  
Druidism always supported peace over war, to spare lives instead of ending them, a way that proved to be useless against those who sought conflict, for they would always find a way to destroy all that druids stood for. Over the millennia he followed the teachings of the Demi-God Cenarius, he fought to defend Nature, to save his people, to save Azeroth against evil, he was the symbol of hope of a dying world, yet his gentle and altruistic personality had led him to underestimate the cruelty that tainted the souls of some individuals.  
  
“I have to warn the Guardians of Hyjal…” He finally said, but a sudden soft sound caught his attention. 

“Oh…” The priestess turned her gaze to Ash’alah, the infant had woken up from her sleep.  “I’ll take care of her, go warn them.”

“Her?” Curiosity made him walk towards the saber cat, only to discover a small baby inside a basket. “Who is this little one?” He kneeled beside the small one.

“I named her Finel, for she was the last one to leave Teldrassil…” The priestess followed him. “Mia saved her, we do not know if her family survived…”

The Archdruid smiled warmly at the child, his hope was restored. “We could always adopt her.” Leaving the tigress guarding the young one, he returned to his wife’s side, wiping her tears away with care. “You’re an excellent mother, the best wife of the universe… the star that guides me through my dark times.” He kissed her softly, the warmth of her lips lured him deeper, the passion was sweet like honey and he was addicted to it. But pressing matters had to be attended, their love would have to wait again, as usual. “We will get through this.”

“The Third is coming Mal…” She caressed his face, longing to feel his lips again.

“I know, but this time we will be prepared.” The druid could not resist the pleading look in her eyes, again he kissed her tender lips trying to not get lost in their sweetness. “Our bond is eternal, never forget that.” Thousands of years could pass, and he would still love her like the first time they met. “I will be back soon.” He pressed his lips against her forehead and returned to bed, he had to enter the dream to warn Cenarius and the rest of the Wild Gods, Nordrassil had to be protected at all costs.

[···]

The rulers of Gilneas walked through the old corridors made of white stone, Stormwind's Keep stood over the centuries almost intact, even after having endured many wars. “Genn, please I am fine, you don’t need to follow me around everywhere.” The voice of Queen Mia was playful, she had endured much in Teldrassil but she didn’t lose her joyful spirit.

“No. I refuse to leave, I saw what happened to your legs Mia, I saw it with my own eyes, and you won’t win me in stubbornness this time.” The Old Wolf’s words were harsh, but it was his way of showing how much he cared for her. “Are you sure that the child is with her? I don’t want to disturb the High Priestess for nothing.”

“Yes, I am sure. We’re going to take turns to take care of her. Please try to not be grumpy around them, Tyrande and Malfurion are going through a very difficult time, just as we did in the past.” She knew her husband very well, since the curse affected him he often lost his temper and she was the one who had to calm him down.

The Old King just gave a low grunt as a response, he was not in a good place at the moment, and his desire for vengeance clouded his thoughts now more than ever.  
They had been together since they were young, both stubborn and strong willed, there was nothing they could not overcome, but losing their home two times in a row certainly made him feel more cursed than he already was.

When they arrived to the room where the leaders of the Kaldorei were staying, Queen Mia knocked the door and opened it slowly. To her surprise, the High Priestess was singing a sweet lullaby to calm the child down.

 _“…And in the nights with full moon_  
_It will be because the kid is in a good mood_  
_And if the girl cries_  
_The moon will lessen  
_ _To make her a cradle...”_

  
Hearing Tyrande sing with her beautiful voice melted her old heart as she approached. “How is the little one doing?” She whispered with gentle voice.

After reassuring that Finel was asleep, she left her tigress guarding her and walked with Mia towards the entrance. “I’ve managed to make her sleep, and Ash’alah has proved to be an excellent nanny.”

“What about Shan’do?” The Queen asked, he was a revered figure for her, just as the priestess was.

Tyrande glared at her husband. “He’s in the Dream, he’s warning Cenarius and the others about what happened. The Crown of Heavens has to be protected.”

Greymane frowned, the remaining World Tree was well guarded by forces that were beyond his comprehension, yet the thought of a possible invasion worried him. “When will he wake up?” He tried to hide the concern in his voice, he was still feeling guilty for not having helped the Archdruid to fight for his home.

“Soon.” A small smile formed on the priestess’s lips. “Did we receive any news from the Sentinels?”

Genn hesitated, the communications with the continent had gone dark after the fall of Teldrassil, even the SI:7 spies had not reported ever since. “I’m afraid not, and it is better to not risk the lives of those who stayed in Kalimdor.”

“I’m not going to sit and wait while my daughter is out there risking her life.” The radiant eyes of the High Priestess glowed with more intensity.

The Old Wolf crossed his arms behind his back. “With all due respect Tyrande, your daughter wouldn’t have the rank of General if she didn’t know how to take care of herself.”

“Look at Malfurion, he knew how to take care of himself very well yet he failed to stop the invasion.” Her words were like sharp blades. “If I had not left him alone none of this would have happened.”

“Tyrande please, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Mia interrupted, she knew how difficult it had been for the priestess to stay behind.

“I need to know that she is all right, you must understand.” She pleaded to the kind heart of the Gilnean Queen, knowing that she shared the same feelings.  
  
When the kingdom of Gilneas fell she tried to keep her family together, but Tess was always missing and Genn was always busy with work. She felt alone in a foreign land until the High Priestess and Sisterhood of Elune welcomed her with open arms, it was thanks to the kindness of the priestesses that she could overcome the grief that tormented her soul when she arrived to Darnassus, and for that she would forever be thankful.  
She felt the sadness in the words of Tyrande, they both lost many friends in the fires that day, part of the Sisterhood met terrible fate of the on Teldrassil, something that would eternally haunt them in their sleepless nights.

She couldn’t change what happened, but she could support her friend in her decision, even if she had to fight with an angry wolf to get what she wanted. “Genn… I’m with her in this.” She glared at her husband, trying to soften him up.

“No, you cannot leave, it’s too dangerous.” He insisted in vain, but the High Priestess made her way out to the corridor ignoring his warning. “Stop!” When the Old King grabbed her arm he saw the wrath of the Goddess in her eyes, the cursed blood that ran through his veins boiled under her gaze. “The Moon…. It’s so bright… arghhh!!” Genn transformed into a worgen against his will. “MIA… I’M BLINDED… THE MOON… STOP HER…” He fell to his knees hoping that his wife would stop Tyrande, but she didn’t, Mia nodded to her in acknowledgement and let her go.

[···]

Unlike the Moons, the stars were beautiful that night, their undying light was shining in the sky with a colorful intensity that fascinated his old soul. The Prophet was taking a peaceful walk through the small garden of the keep along with Alleria and Turalyon who were in the city as well.

“I’ve missed this sky, isn’t it beautiful?” The High Exarch was very pleased to be in his old city again, even after all the millennia it still felt like home for him. Immortality suited him well, being forged in Light had prevented his death centuries ago, although sometimes he regretted it. Since Alleria was infected by the Void he could not touch her, for even the slightest caress from her burned like a thousand suns, something that often made him wonder why she was still on his side. Still, he loved her and even if they were destined to be apart he would continue at her side no matter what.

“I’ve lost the count on how many times you said that already.” Alleria responded, unlike him she did not have a home to return to when the war was over, and after being exiled from Quel’thalas she just had Stormwind and her gloomy rift left.

Velen remained silent, he looked at the sky with an absent look in his eyes, since his visit to Argus he was not the same as he used to be. Witnessing the devastation of his home world had left him a scar on his ancient soul, the planet had been saved from the Burning Legion but the price they had paid was too high. Azeroth was dying and they could hardly do anything to stop her suffering.  
His old heart saddened when the conflict over Azerite started, the world was bleeding and the younger races seemed to care more about profit than saving the planet.

After a while enjoying the view of the stars, they saw the High Priestess of Elune entering the garden followed by King Anduin.

The two soldiers that were guarding the garden saluted the High King as he passed by. “High Priestess, please, reconsider…” He pleaded, but the night elf woman didn’t listen.

Tyrande whistled, calling her hippogryph to the garden. “You stopped me once, Young King, but you won’t stop me again.”

Velen simply observed with attention as he walked towards the boy. Through the ages he had learned that nothing was more dangerous than an angry mother, for they could do literally anything to save their children in peril.

“Prophet, Turalyon… Alleria! Please, say something to her.” Anduin was desperate to stop the priestess. “I know it is hard to think about having your family out there, but it is too soon, too dangerous, please stay here I will send someone to find what happened to the Sentinels.”

When her companion arrived, she called upon the Goddess to surround her position with a wide circular curtain made of burning moonlight, so nobody would dare to approach her. “I’ve taken my decision.”

The two royal soldiers moved beside the High King when they sensed trouble, but he did not allow them to intervene. Anduin couldn’t allow her to risk her life, he tried to reach her but Velen stopped him using his staff. “Prophet?”

“You will be burned into ash if you step into the light, young one.” The old Eredar remained calm as the waters of a peaceful lake. “For it is not made of kindness but wrath.” Velen walked towards the curtain of light that separated them, feeling the gaze of the Goddess upon him. “I feel your grief, High Priestess, for it is the same grief I felt for thousands of years.” He sighed, stroking his beard as he reminded those past days. “I will not stop you.”

“Are you seriously going to let her throw her life like that?” Turalyon did not understand why Velen had decided to side with her, even being in a similar position as him. “I too did lose my son, but I didn’t do anything reckless that could prevent me from seeing him again.” He took a step into the light thinking that his Lightforged body would endure any kind of lunar fire, but he was mercilessly burned by it. “How can this…” He groaned in pain as he stumbled backwards.

The Prophet placed his gaze on the other side of the circular curtain, where Alleria remained silent and carefully observing what was going on. “Only the Darkness can step where the Light fears to thread.”

Alleria, understanding the words of Velen traversed the lunar light, a warm and kind sensation bathed her body once inside the circle, but as she approached to the High Priestess she sensed something else, something that could barely be seen amidst the shining lunar light, Tyrande was surrounded by spectral soldiers. **_“THE SO-CALLED PROPHET LIES, RUN NOW… OR THE LADY IN WHITE WILL HARM US…”_** The voices from the Void warned her as she grew closer to the priestess but she decided to ignore them.  
“Lady Tyrande…” She hesitated when she felt the radiant gaze upon her. “I was in the same situation as you centuries ago, I didn’t have a choice, but you do… I know it is hard to think now with all that has… happened, I will help you, I swear, but we need a good plan… the continent is a war zone now.”

The spectral soldiers turned at the same time to look at Alleria. “Where was your help when my people needed it? You can traverse the Void just as the druids can traverse the Emerald Dream, and yet there was no sign of your people…”

“We did not know! We were on the Vindicaar scouting the planet, looking for the remaining demons.” Alleria started to feel cornered as the ghosts slowly approached to her, she spoke the truth but the priestess didn’t seem to believe her. “It was the will of Illidan, to find and eliminate all demons from Azero—“

 “The Vindicaar…” Tyrande pronounced the name with despise. “An interstellar ship that can travel fast as light and can host hundreds of people.” The hippogryph, sensing the imminent peril, ran away terrified. “You could have dropped beacons all over Darkshore, if not to fight to rescue the innocent!”

The Void took over Alleria’s body when she was surrounded, her skin changed into a dark blue color that seemed to eat the light away. The cold spectral gaze of the lunar ghosts was frightening, and her instinct pushed her to slowly move her hand to grasp the bow from her back.

The High Priestess interpreted the actions of the Void Elf as an aggression against her, and certainly the blood ties she shared with the enemy made things much worse. It was then when resentment controlled her judgement in a bitter and painful way that influenced the spectral soldiers, making them attack Alleria without hesitation.

All the bitterness that had taken root in her soul over the centuries flourished, like a beautiful flower that hid deadly venom behind its sweet allure. The Kaldorei always tried to follow a path of peace and harmony with nature since their ancestors lurked in the caves under Mount Hyjal, yet peace was but an illusion, no matter how much they desired it, there would always be someone sought to destroy it, even among their own people. A cursed cycle in which the High Priestess was trapped, forever forced to see how it repeated over and over again.

The aim of the ranger was true, but feeling that she would soon be overwhelmed by the servants of the Moon, she called upon the dark powers to help her survive and subdue the rage of the High Priestess, opening a Void Rift from which it spawned a powerful Voidlord to contain the small army made of moonlight.

The body of the High Priestess started to shine as the White Lady embraced her soul, her light was radiant as an undying star that seemed to turn the color of her hair into silvery white; it was the light of the Avatar of Elune that few had witnessed.  
In the blink of an eye the spectral soldiers were armed with weapons and shields made of lunar light, countering easily the spawn of madness that the ranger had called.

But Alleria did not relent, she tackled Tyrande hoping to reason with her. Soon she would realize her mistake, for she wasn’t just a mere priestess but a skilled warrior as well. “Tyrande, please listen to me!! Stop this madness!”

“You’re the only one who brought madness into my sanctum, Windrunner.” Her anger was so deep that ended completely dominating her mind, the wrath of the heavens was out of control. A moonglaive made of lunar light materialized in her right arm, cutting through Alleria’s armor like if it was made of butter, forcing the Void Elf to put distance between them.

One swing after another, her opponent was fast and relentless, all she could do was jump and evade the hits. “I’M NOT MY SISTER!!” She screamed, but the wrath of the Goddess could not be stopped.

“Prophet!! She’s going to kill Alleria if we don’t intervene!” Turalyon desperately pointed at the fight, but Velen shook his head.

Even doing the best he could after Varian’s death, the Young King felt like he was constantly failing his allies. “I can’t believe this is happening…” Anduin used his inner force and casted a beam of Holy Light against the curtain, but it was like shooting at a wall made of impenetrable diamonds. “Prophet, why don’t you stop this?!” He felt powerless as he watched the battle, thinking that if his father had been there none of that would have happened.

“The Light shall never step on the dark side of the Moon.” He continued observing the fight with a calm expression on his old blue face.

Alleria seeing that close combat was impossible jumped as far as she could. **_“AIM TO THE HEART, WE MUST KILL HER BEFORE SHE KILLS US!”_  ** The hollow voice from the Void screamed inside her mind again, and after doubting for a second she ended up aiming to the limbs. Suddenly tendrils made of pure moonlight surged from the lunar wall, chaining her before she could shoot any arrow. “Shit…” Not even in her Void Form could break those spectral chains. “TYRANDE, YOUR VISION IS CLOUDED! YOU HAVE TO REGAIN SANITY!!”

The High Priestess walked towards her enemy, her radiant figure moved gracefully through the army of spectral soldiers. “You will not harm my children again.” She grabbed Alleria’s face, and placed her merciless gaze upon her. **“Feel the wrath of the Heavens!”** The Avatar of Elune raised her right hand and hundreds of moonlight arrows materialized over them, the divine justice would rain from above mercilessly killing her enemy.

The grip didn’t feel gentle, it was harsh and cold as death itself, not even her voice sounded the same, she was clearly something more than a simple priestess now. “…Are you going to leave my son without her mother again?” She asked, with a defiant look on her face.

Tyrande hesitated and the moonlight arrows vanished. “Your son…” The thought of leaving the child without his mother made her regain her lost sanity. The soldiers started to disappear one by one until none was left, the curtain made of lunar light fell and her radiant body returned to normal.

The Prophet walked towards both women and raised his hand, nobody understood what he intended until a ghostly owl landed on his arm, it was Dori’thur the faithful companion of the High Priestess. “I believe this little bird is yours.” He said, smiling with confidence.

“Dori’thur!” Tyrande screamed with joy. “I sent him days ago to find Shandris, but…”

“Wait…” Alleria, still feeling a bit sore because of the ghostly chains that had restrained her, closed the Void Rift and dismissed the Void Lord. “So your daughter is the General of the Sentinels? Why are you so worried? Can’t she take care of herself?”

“That question again?” The priestess stared at her with a mean look on her face. “She’s still my daughter, no matter how strong and skilled she is. The Sentinels could be in need of aid, I must find out their fate.” She rubbed the owl’s head. “Did you bring any messages?”

“He did something better, mother.” Amidst the confusion, a young elf woman dressed with a battle armor appeared from the shadows of the keep. Shandris Feathermoon, General of the Sentinels and adoptive daughter of the High Priestess, was accompanied by one of the Highborne magi that studied the ancient city of Eldre’Thalas, she did not trust their kind entirely but portals were the only way to travel fast between locations.

“SHANDRIS!” The mother ran towards her daughter crying tears of happiness for the first time in days. “My little girl, you’re all right!” She hugged her tightly while sobbing uncontrollably, long had she feared the worst and having her now between her arms filled her with hope.

The young elf started to cry when she felt her mother’s embrace, refusing to let her go for a while like a child in need of comfort. “I’m sorry mother.” She muttered with a trembling voice full of sorrow.  
The fleet of the Sentinels had been heavily damaged during the War of Thorns, luckily for them they managed to flee from the place and return to Feathermoon Stronghold when the battle for Teldrassil was lost.

Tyrande released Shandris and wiped the tears from her face with care. “No my child… you don’t need to apologize.” She took a deep breath to calm herself and regain composure, her protective instincts were strong and she could not stand seeing her daughter weep. “You’re not guilty for all this unfortunate events, and if someone has to take the blame it will be me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, mother.” She wasn’t going to allow the priestess to take all the blame for what happened. “I still can’t believe that Sentinel fleet couldn’t do anything against the Azerite weapons that the Horde crafted.”

“I know… the blood of Azeroth is pure venom, the world is suffering and the younger races only seek to benefit from it.” She pursed her lips, glancing at the High King.

Velen also glared at the human leader. “I too think the same, High Priestess.”  Age had made them both wise enough to see the truth behind the conflict.

Anduin sighed feeling judged by them, he knew they were right, but he had to prevent the Horde from using the power of the Azerite against the Alliance, it was his duty to prevent future tragedies like the one of Teldrassil. “That’s why we must keep it away from the hands of those who seek to misuse it…”

Shandris did not care about what the Boy King had to say. It was Stormwind’s SI:7 who gave the Sentinels wrong information, and it was Anduin who doomed them all by giving the order of spying the Horde in Orgrimmar, she did not trust them anymore. The only thing that mattered to her at that moment was her mother. “I was worried, I did not know if you and father… I couldn’t just sit idle without knowing.”

“Like mother, like daughter…” Alleria chuckled seeing both reunited. “Your mom was about to kill me and destroy the keep because we didn’t let her go to see you.”

“Hah… typical.” Shandris smiled warmly at her mother, she knew very well how emotions could cloud Tyrande’s judgement sometimes.  
When her family was slain by demons during the War of the Ancients the High Priestess took care of her, giving the young elf her unconditional love and training her in the arts of battle, she spent thousands of years at her side and would continue doing so until her last days. “You trained us well... we will endure no matter what.”

Anduin watched the family reunion with confusion, everything that happened seemed to have been orchestrated with perfect timing. “You think the Prophet knew it all this time?” He asked to the High Exarch.

Turalyon glared at his burnt hand for a second, he had heard legends about Elune, but he would never have imagined that something described as a gentle being could be so merciless even with those who shared a connection with the Light. “Seeing this… I’m sure he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be called Prophet.” He smiled looking at the mother and the child, the scene reminded him of his meeting with his own son.

“Come, I’m sure Malfurion will be so happy to see you again.” Tyrande took Shandris by the hand and walked away to meet with the sleeping Archdruid, her mind wasn’t at peace but at least she could have some temporal respite.

When they both left the place, Prophet Velen approached Alleria and rested his old hand upon her shoulder. “You have done well, I’m proud of your control over the Void.”

“You knew this all along, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t stop her, but why me? I could have died in there…” She reprimanded the old Eredar, she didn’t like to be used as a tool.

“I did.” He smiled. “You were the only one who could set foot on the dark side of the Moon, look…” His hand pointed at the eclipse, the White Lady could still be seen darkening the sky with her haunting presence.  
“Tyrande is… but a vessel of her Goddess’s powers. It is a deeper connection than the one that I have with the Light, or the one that you share with the Void. I can only guess that the Divine Being sees all those who share the same blood of the Banshee Queen as enemies.” Velen stroked his long beard, pondering about the mysteries that Elune hid from everyone. “I advise that you and your sister Vereesa don’t get near the High Priestess, at least for now, or we will risk to trigger the wrath of that mysterious Divine Entity again.”

“That’s just… unfair!” The ranger closed her fists, paying for the sins of Sylvanas was something she was starting to hate. Since she returned from Argus, she learned about all the atrocities that her sister had committed in her absence since she turned undead. When she last met with her and Vereesa she tried to understand Sylvanas the best she could, but her sister had been dead for too long and was beyond salvation. The family bond that united them was still present and it was hard to bear the thought of putting an end to her once and for all. “I’ll make sure to warn Vereesa...”

After everything was solved, the Prophet walked away peacefully with his gaze fixated in the stars. Now the White Lady and the Blue Child were reunited, and the calm returned to the night, a terrifying and cold calm under the gaze of Elune, her children were hurt, and her wrath would soon burn away the enemies of the living.


End file.
